tell him?” Mark whimpered against Noah’s shoulder. “After what I’ve done, how can I possibly face him?”
“If he’s willing to forgive you, don’t you think you should forgive yourself?” Pulling back so their eyes met, Noah said, “Your past is yours to share or keep to yourself. From this moment forward is what matters. Do not, I repeat, do not allow this to rob you of your life. You’ve got people who love you and don’t give a damn what you’ve been doing these past few months. They just want you back.
“Now, get ready. Your bus leaves in two hours. Here’s my cell phone in case you want to call your folks.” With a mock stern expression Noah added, “But no international calls.”
Mark laughed, despite his tears. “I promise.”
“Oh, and if it rings, don’t answer it.” With that Noah was gone.
“Yes! I’m going home!” Mark shouted to the room. Staring at the phone, he debated long and hard who to call. Everything was happening so fast that he still couldn’t quite believe it all, expecting to wake up to a living nightmare at any moment. And despite what Noah said, there was no way Eric could want him now, not after… In the end he pulled a business card from his wallet and dialed a local number.
The phone rang but one time before a voice barked, “Sumner here.”
Mark smiled, knowing that gruff demeanor hid a heart of gold. “I’m no longer your problem,” he said, wiping tears from his cheeks with his free hand. “Thanks.”
That had been two days and one long bus ride ago. He’d gotten off at a station downtown, an hour north of the rural community where he’d been raised. No one was there to meet him. Not knowing what else to do, Mark settled into the graffiti-decorated terminal to wait, sinking onto an uncomfortable wooden bench. Anxiety grew with each passing moment. What if no one came? He didn’t have enough money for another bus ticket, or anywhere to go even if he did.
He closed his eyes, picturing his father from their last encounter, face mottled red with anger. Oh, he’d held it together long enough for Eric’s car to pull from the driveway before screaming, “What are you waiting for? Get out of my house, you damn faggot! And don’t ever come back!”
Hot tears stung Mark’s eyes as they always did when replaying that memory—a memory he’d tortured himself with many times since leaving. The man he’d wanted to be like when he grew up had thrown him away like so much trash. It wasn’t the first time he wondered how different things would have been had he just called Eric and worked out a better plan, but at the time getting as far away as possible was the only thing on his mind. Willie had snapped him up the moment he’d stepped off the bus.
On the verge of panic as the clock ticked away the minutes, he stared out the grimy windows, hoping to see a familiar vehicle. Instead he spotted a young man, ill-dressed for the cold, huddled against a brick wall. A shiver shot through him, caused by more than just a physical chill. A few short days ago he’d been doing the same, braving the elements while waiting for someone, anyone, who’d pay to take him in, if only for a little while.
He turned away, an invisible fist squeezing his heart. That could have been him if he hadn’t felt the need to put greater distance between himself and home. Instead of staying close by, he’d bought a ticket to the farthest big city he could afford. No matter how far he ran, however, he couldn’t outrun himself, or the haunting memories—the furious face and bitter words that had ended life as he knew it.
A car horn interrupted his unpleasant thoughts, and he breathed a sigh of relief to see a familiar Suburban now parked outside, obscuring the view of the hooker. Inside sat his father. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. Pushing down a load of guilt and fear, Mark slipped into the jacket Noah had given him and hoisted the backpack over one shoulder. After a deep, cleansing breath, he walked out to the vehicle, opening the door and slipping inside.
It was only slightly warmer inside than outside. The temperature was toasty enough, the figurative frost in the air was the problem. After nearly a year’s absence, all he got was, “Hey.” No “Hey, son,” or